


Old Scenes

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Camping, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-14
Updated: 2010-11-14
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:51:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius went camping with his parents over the hols, somewhere in California, he said. He said that they go every year, somewhere different. Do you think we could go camping this summer? Scorp says it's a blast - they go hiking, they make fire, they go out on boats! Whadya think?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Scenes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for dollsome's Shiny Happy Comment Ficathon! Prompt was: Harry Potter - Harry, Ron, & Hermione - It's just like old times

"You all set?"  
  
Ron looked up to see Hermione standing in the doorway to their bedroom. "Are we really doing this?"  
  
"We promised the kids." Her voice was weary, her tone resigned. They'd had this discussion dozens of times over the last couple of weeks.  
  
"Yeah, well," Ron searched for words. "Life's unfair, right? Maybe they should learn that valuable lesson. Like, today, for example, would be a suitable time to learn that they don't always get to -"  
  
"Ron," Hermione cut him off, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. "Let's go."  
  
Ron groaned loudly, but stood up and followed her dutifully downstairs. "Where are the little terrors?"  
  
"Outside," his wife responded, grabbing the last of the bags from the hallway. "They're chomping at the bit."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Ron sighed. He hesitated, smiled broadly, then opened the front door. Rose and Hugo were sitting on a pile of gear, impatiently waiting for their parents. "All right!" Ron said, clapping his hands together. "Who's ready to go camping?"  
  
-  
  
It was Draco Malfoy's fault.  
  
In a very roundabout way, to be fair, but Ron and Harry, for the last several months, had taken no issue with blaming Draco profusely for their kids' newfound obsession with going camping.  
  
A month into their first year and Rose, Al and Scorpius had become fast friends, much to the chagrin of all three fathers. Regardless, the eleven-year-olds were inseparable, and Scorpius began to feature heavily in letters home.   
  
And then, after the winter holidays, in the third paragraph of a letter home from Al, was this:  
  
 _Scorpius went camping with his parents over the hols, somewhere in California, he said. He said that they go every year, somewhere different. Do you think we could go camping this summer? Scorp says it's a blast - they go hiking, they make fire, they go out on boats! Whadya think?_  
  
Ginny had laughed, but her smile had quickly faded at the ashen expression on her husband's face when she read the letter out loud to him. "Harry?"  
  
"No camping," came his short reply. "No camping, ever.  
  
Two weeks later, Rose repeated the request in a letter home to her parents. Harry wasn't there at the time, but to hear Hermione tell it Ron had broken the dish he'd been holding out of sheer horror.   
  
The aftermath of the War had manifested itself in myriad ways among its survivors. Neville had developed a mild case of claustrophobia. Luna was deathly afraid of pitch black - nighttime was alright, as long as she could see the moon and stars. Ginny religiously observed all anniversaries and memorial days. As for Ron, Hermione and Harry - the three of them had, either independently or as a result of group-think, developed a visceral aversion to camping.   
  
As far as impediments on life go this one was rather innocuous. Except for a few invitations throughout the years, and one near miss for the Quidditch World Cup three years prior, they had managed to avoid the issue altogether. It wasn't like one could be taken unawares by a sneak camping assault. Or so they thought.  
  
Rose and Al had made it their mission to go camping the summer after their first year. Their parents never stood a chance.  
  
-  
  
"I forgot something."  
  
"No you didn't."  
  
"I did, I forgot my favorite sweater."  
  
"You don't have a favorite sweater."  
  
"Oh yeah? What about the green one your mom made me two Christmases ago?"  
  
"The one you've worn three times since then?"  
  
"Ginny - "  
  
"Harry." Ginny cut him off. "Get your butt onto that bus. We're going camping."  
  
"Mum said 'butt'," Lily giggled, following her older brothers up the steps. Al rolled his eyes but James affectionately ruffled her hair.   
  
"Don't think that means you can say it," he warned. "I've fallen for that one before."  
  
Ginny shoved him gently, watching the conductor unceremoniously dump their bags next to a set of bunk beds. She turned around to see her husband staring up at the bus, his lips tight and eyes troubled. "Harry," she said softly. He looked at her. "It's just a camping trip."  
  
"I haven't - " his voice faded. "It was the worst year of my life, Gin."  
  
Ginny's heart tightened, and she stepped off the bus towards Harry. She rested her hands on his shoulders and his went automatically to her waist. "I know," she whispered. "But they want this so badly. And it's a whole new experience, right? Maybe you can find a way to actually enjoy this again. All three of you."  
  
Harry exhaled, his posture relaxing slightly. "You're right," he said. "It could be good for us."   
  
Ginny grinned, standing on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Behind her, she could hear three adolescent groans of embarrassment. "Gross!"  
  
Harry laughed. "Shut up, you three," he told his kids. "Ready to go?"  
  
-  
  
They met in southern London and took the Knight Ship across the water to France (Hermione had been the one, incidentally, to put her foot down about camping in England.) They had arranged a Portkey ahead of time, a broken bicycle wheel that transported the whole crew to a lovely clearing near a lake, a spot recommended by Dean Thomas.   
  
The kids had eagerly jumped into the business of getting things set up - meaning, they'd efficiently emptied all bags into random piles on the grass and then taken off towards the lake to explore. Ginny had smiled at them apologetically and followed the kids, keeping an eye on their hijinks as they ventured towards the water.  
  
"Can't believe she left us to set up," Ron said, staring sullenly at the camping gear strewn before them.  
  
"It's alright," Hermione said, a tight smile on her face. Even she sounded unconvinced. "Just like old times, right?"  
  
The statement hung heavy in the air, as they all remembered screams and panic and words that, while long forgiven, they would never be able to fully forget.  
  
"Just like old times," Harry echoed. They stood unmoving, the three of them, for a while after that.  
  
-  
  
The tents went up quickly, with little excitement. Though it had been two decades, the action of putting a tent up was still fully ingrained in all three friends. Pegs in ground, cloth spread tight, final enchantments cast.  
  
(There was an awkward moment where Hermione, done casting the standard spells on the tent, had turned her wand around and automatically set up wards and charms all around them. Ron and Harry didn't know how to react as she efficiently made them invisible, impenetrable and mute to the outside world. When she realized, three seconds later, what she had done, her hand shook so badly that she was unable to take down the wards for a good five minutes.)  
  
After that hiccup, the rest of the day went smoothly. They transfigured logs into rafts, sending the kids out into the water to float and splash. Ron and Ginny took the kids up over a small hill range to explore while Harry and Hermione stayed back to set up the bonfire. By the time they came back, the sun had dipped low in the sky and the fire was roaring.  
  
The night was beautiful, the air warm and sweet. James regaled them with Muggle horror stories he learned from his Muggle-born best friend, Cameron. Hermione stopped him after Lily crawled into her lap and burst into tears, and they began telling jokes instead.  
  
(Harry stopped  _that_  after Al got three-quarters of the way into a stupendously inappropriate joke that he said Scorpius had told him.)  
  
After dinner and hot cocoa, the kids began to droop, exhausted from the activity and heat of the day. "Bed time," Ron said, lifting Lily and Rose carefully and making his way for the largest tent. The boys followed after, sleepy and calm.   
  
The fire died down, fading to embers as the four adults sat quietly around it. "This was nice," Hermione said softly, smiling. Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  
  
Ginny sat with her back against Harry's front, her eyes closed in contentment. "After all the grief you three put me through."  
  
Ron chuckled. "I still say we need to shut down this Malfoy thing before it's too late."  
  
"I think it's past the point of no return, mate," Harry said ruefully. "Might as well accept it."  
  
His best friend sighed. "Fine. But if you think I'm having Draco Malfoy over for tea just because my daughter doesn't know how to pick her friends properly, well..."  
  
"I think that sounds like a perfectly lovely idea," Hermione said, grinning wickedly. "In fact, I'll owl him next week, see if he's available."  
  
Harry couldn't help but laugh at the look of outrage on Ron's face.  
  
They stayed there, laughing softly, until the only light was from the moon shining on the lake.  
  
-  
  
Harry lay next to Ginny, staring up at the patterned cloth above their bed. She breathed softly next to him, but he was unable to fall asleep. Being back in a tent, even after all these years, was simply too full of memories. His body remembered the feeling of being on edge, constantly. His heart leapt into his throat at every twig snapping, every bird call.   
  
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "Gin," he said softly, sitting up.  
  
"It's okay, Harry," she mumbled. "Go."  
  
He looked down at her, feeling a rush of love and affection that she knew, that she understood so well.  
  
Pulling on his cloak, he left the tent and walked quietly to the next one over. He paused for a second, then walked in.  
  
"Hi," Hermione murmured, gesturing him over. "Come lay down."  
  
They had expanded the bed, making it large enough to fit three adults easily. They'd been expecting him.  
  
"What took you so long, mate?" Ron said sleepily, his voice muffled slightly by his pillow.  
  
Harry laughed, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. Toeing off his shoes, he climbed into the bed and lay down. Hermione pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Ron reached over to squeeze his arm.  
  
Then, finally, they slept.  
  
Outside a fox approached the lake, looking to get a drink of water. But halfway there, she suddenly realized that she was hungry instead, and took off in the opposite direction.  
  
("What?" Hermione asked the next morning at Ron's incredulous look as she took down the wards. "Old habits die hard.")


End file.
